


You're Very Lovely

by somewriter



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston- Fandom
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Blow Job, Car Sex, Consensual Sex, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Jealous Tom, Library Sex, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Masturbation, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with very little plot aka no plot, Professor Tom, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Table Sex, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tom Hiddleston wearing glasses kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, a little bit of dom Tom, both Tom and reader have v filthy mouths tbh, i hate the word "panties" so it's knickers or underwear in this fic, idk if you would call it bondage but tagging just in case, idk why but i love the idea of painter tom?!, mild bondage discussion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 01:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5072095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somewriter/pseuds/somewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're Professor Hiddleston's new research assistant. Smut ensues, basically.<br/>For anyone who's not in the know .... Y/N = your name</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Office

You had been his research assistant for three months. Professor Hiddleston worked in the same art history department that you were writing your dissertation in, and kindly agreed to take you on as a research assistant – this meant more experience and another tick on your résumé. His specialty is nineteenth-century prints, and he needed some help with a catalogue project he was writing on contemporary installation works for a touring exhibition. Your specialisation is installations by women artists, exploring their interrogations of the intersections of gender, race, and class, making you a perfect candidate to assist in his new research. Sitting across from him in his office, you’d share pots of tea while presenting him with the details of the research you’d done that week. Each week he would listen intently, thumb grazing across his lips and forehead crinkling with the strain of concentration. He would occasionally murmur a ‘hmmm,’ or a ‘that’s interesting.’

You exchange books you each think the other would like or find useful for research purposes, and discuss what you’d read the following week. His recommendations were not only insightful, perfectly tailored to your tastes; he also takes your recommendations on board and discussed them excitedly, thanking you for your insights. He has a brilliant, curious mind that inspires and surprises you, and he makes you feel like his equal. You’re kind of besotted with him – he truly is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Every glance in your direction, every exhalation, every softly spoken word seems to completely electrify you. After each meeting, you leave his office feeling the dampened cotton of your underwear clinging uncomfortably to your throbbing sex, hurrying home to slip your fingers between your heated folds to relieve the tension. You’d imagine it was his fingers rubbing you exactly as you liked and screamed his name into your pillow with your shaking release. You wanted him, badly. Your attraction is clearly mutual, with his looks lingering a little longer each week, his hand lingering near yours more insistently, and his trousers bulging slightly after a couple of hours together. But you’ve accepted it wouldn’t happen – it was completely inappropriate and most likely regrettably stupid to act upon these feelings. He was not only almost ten years older, but also part of your supervisory team for your dissertation, which made him not only your boss but also your teacher. He was your professor, and you had both silently agreed to keep your professional distance as much as possible.

Today has been a particularly long session during which you presented him with transcriptions of an interview you conducted with one of the artists. Moving from the office chairs to the comfier armchairs in the corner of his office at around five in the evening, you continued to discuss the transcripts while munching on a late afternoon tea of biscuits and wafers. The transcript summarised and the conversation beginning to die down, you uncross your legs, which are stiff from having remained crossed for so long and suddenly feel his eyes on you. Those clear, earnest, blue eyes suddenly glaze over with a tortured stare. Looking into his eyes is like watching a storm rolling in and your breath catches in your throat, which is suddenly very dry.

‘You’re very lovely,’ Tom says quietly, solemnly, his eyes now focused on his hands that rest in his lap. These extremely chaste, innocent words are nevertheless laced with sex, the erotic tone of his voice and heavy breathing holding much more significance than these few words could summarise.

You both gulp.

‘You’re very lovely, too,’ you say even more quietly, and find some courage to continue looking at him. Any sensible thoughts about his seniority, your position as his student, and the university’s strict policy about student/teacher relations has been thoroughly shaken out of you mind, and his. He looks up and you notice that his neck and cheeks are tinged pink, with either desire or nerves or a combination of both.

His hands grip the arms of his chair, and you’re both unsure what to do. After a moment, he slips off his chair onto his knees and shuffles across the small space between you until he is face to face with you. His hard, sculpted torso is wedged between your thighs and a flood of wet immediately rushes out of you. You reach out with a trembling hand to caress his face, run your fingers through his ginger locks – god, how long you’d wanted to do that! – and emboldened by your gestures, he brushes his soft lips across yours. Oh god. It’s like an electric shock jolting through your limbs, and you think he feels it too because his breath hitches in a rasping gasp. Licking your bottom lip, he gently demands entrance to your mouth, which you give gladly with a moan of delight. You kiss him deeply, pushing your tongue against his. His hands rest lightly on your waist and yours on his solid chest. You lose track of time enjoying kissing him until you suddenly want more. Much more. You break away from his swollen lips to unbutton his shirt, looking at him to silently enquire ‘is this ok?’ His answer is clear when he slowly drags your jumper off, followed by your t-shirt and bra.

He leans down to kiss your collarbone, gently nipping his way down to your breasts before taking one of your small breasts in his mouth. His hand cups the other breast, rolling the already hard nipple with his thumb and forefinger. He moans into your breast and the vibration against your nipple sends a lightening bolt of heat and sensation to your clit. You gasp and tighten the grip of your thighs on his torso, digging your nails into his broad, strong shoulders and leaving little half-moon indentations on freckled skin. His hands become more urgent when he begins kneading and caressing your thighs and you impatiently grind your groin against him. Making quick work of removing your shoes, stockings and skirt, he then leans back and surveys you with a look of such intense desire that you shudder. He opens your legs a little more and grazes his thumb along your cotton-clad slit, teasing and rubbing ever so gently against the drenched fabric.

‘Please, oh god, more, please,’ you babble, unable to form a coherent request.

He assents, pulling your underwear off and swiftly returning his beautiful fingers to your bared, slick, hot sex. ‘Mmmmmmm,’ you moan appreciatively as you buck up into his hand. He leans in and whispers ‘may I taste you?’

Fuck. Another flood of wet gushed out of you and your thighs are well and truly dripping with desire. ‘God yes, please, yes Professor.’

As Tom brushes his lips across the generous curve of your hips and down through your soft curls he hums, ‘I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time. We’ve sat together so many times right here in this office and I could smell your beautiful arousal, wanting nothing more than to drop to my knees and taste you til you’re a screaming, shaking mess. I want to worship you with my mouth, Y/N. I want to make you come with my tongue, darling.’

Double fuck. You’ve never been so turned on in all your life. Pulling your legs over his shoulders and without another word, he licks a soft stripe along your slit, from your opening to your clit, before parting your lips and planting a solemn kiss on the clit itself. You writhe in unadulterated delight, covering your mouth with a hand to muffle a strained scream.

He looks up and frowns. ‘Darling, we are the only souls here right now. No one will hear you but me. And I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I can make you feel.’

You remove your hand from your mouth and release any sense of decorum with it, looking down at this god of a man hovering hungrily above your drenched sex. He smiles with approval and licks another stripe along your slit, but deeper this time, allowing you to watch him gather some of your clear, sticky cum on his tongue before swallowing it down like it was the sweetest elixir he’s ever tasted. He fixes his gaze on yours as you watch your Professor do this, which is the sexiest, dirtiest, most pornographic thing you’ve ever seen. He continues to look up into your eyes as he alternates licking, sucking, and grazing his teeth along your clit and inner labia. Registering every reaction, noting what you respond to most, every scream of ‘oh god fuck yes please more,’ he is giving you the most attentive care you’ve ever been given during sex. The men you’ve usually been with either wouldn’t go down on you or only did it until you were wet enough for penetration – Tom was _enjoying_ giving you oral and was revving you up for a truly mind-blowing orgasm. He begins sucking harder when he feels your legs straightening out, stiff and trembling, while your ragged breath becomes heavier and louder.

‘Oh my god, Professor, I, I….’

‘Yes, come for me. God you’re so fucking beautiful like this, Y/N,’ he encourages between hot heavy breaths, before burying his face deep into your pussy, using his nose to rub your clit even more vigorously while his tongue licks and prods at your entrance.

His words tip you over the edge and you grind your sopping groin into his face, grabbing the back of his head and pushing his face into you. You briefly worry you might injure him with the force of your grip, but his appreciative moans that hum and vibrate against your clit swiftly remove this thought from your mind. You’re coming violently, knees squeezing his head, fingernails digging into his scalp, screaming while you feel like you’re blacking out from the intensity of pleasure. Everything falls away and all that remains is his mouth greedily sucking your clit. The burst of stars behind your eyes continues, a fresh flood of arousal trickling forth, which Tom greedily drinks down as you come for a second time, even more strongly – if that is possible.

After licking your folds and inner thighs clean as you come down from your extreme high, he wipes away the generous slick that adorns his chin, the tip of his nose, and his lips.

‘Oh Professor,’ you sigh, leaning back into the armchair like a ragdoll, still shaking with glorious aftershocks, ‘sir, you are amazing.’

He chuckles, ‘I’ve just spent the better part of the last thirty minutes licking your clit, I think we’re well acquainted enough for you to call me Tom.’

‘Tom, then,’ you echo in agreement.

As he sits back you notice the bulge of his clearly impressive cock straining against the linen of his trousers. You’d forgotten all about his needs! He’d made you forget, in fact, by putting your pleasure at the centre of his attention. The man must be in pain, you think, and gesture for him to stand along with you. You unbuckle his belt and caress him through his underwear, as he had done to you minutes ago. He groans with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Panting, he begs ‘darling, don’t, otherwise I’ll come right here and now and I don't want to come in my underwear.’

Feeling the urgency of his desire floods your pussy with wet once again and you simply remove his underwear. His long, graceful cock stands to attention, purple-red and throbbing. He’s beautiful. You swiftly clear two piles of papers from his desk and sit back on it, spreading you legs in invitation.

_How many times had you fantasised about him plunging into you on this very desk? How often had you been turned on by the idea of your Professor fucking you in this office?_

You can feel your hot arousal dripping onto the cold wood of the desk at the mere thought of it. He steps towards you, caressing your breasts before running his hands down to your hips and then your cunt. When he finds you slick with wet he moans appreciatively.

‘I’ve wanted you for so long, Tom,’ you say, to which he responds ‘me too, oh god me too.’

Using the head of his cock to stimulate your clit and inner lips, he begins breathing raggedly against your neck. God, he knew how to pleasure you, you think, like he’d thoroughly consulted blueprints before ever touching you. You feel ready to come on the spot with this new stimulation.

Suddenly remembering something, he snaps out of his erotic stupor and asks ‘do we need protection?’ in his familiar practical tone.

‘It’s OK, I’m on the pill. Please, I need you now.’

After a little more teasing, you can’t take it anymore, lightly gripping his cock in your hand to lead him to your very ready entrance.

‘I’m going to fuck you on this desk, darling. I’m going to fuck you until the only thing you remember is my name,’ he grunts, looking at you through hooded lids. This filthily whispered promise was a far cry from the innocent, timid declaration about your loveliness he had made just a short time ago, and it was driving you absolutely wild.

_Who was this man who knew how to turn you on with his words and his tongue and his hands and his cock so well?!_

‘God yes, oh fuck, fuck me!’

_And who was this woman who had always found sex ho-hum until this electrifying encounter, and was now begging this man to fuck her?! You barely recognise yourself._

Needing no further encouragement, he slowly plunges into you and finally buries himself fully. He waits a moment, looking at you to make sure you’re ready and you wrap your legs around his waist as he begins to move. Your moans fill the room along with the obscene wet slurp and slap of him pushing in and out of you, echoing down the empty, darkened hallways of the building. It’s his turn to begin babbling ‘oh god yes, you’re so fucking beautiful, mmmmm oh fuck,’ as you lift and grind your hips against every thrust he offers you. He’s so deep in you and your muscles start to violently contract around his cock, causing him to grunt again. He grips your hips hard and begins thrusting more vigorously, his cock twitching, and you can tell he’s close. You move your fingers downwards to your clit and begin massaging it gently. When he sees this, he swats your hand away gently.

‘That’s my job,’ he breathes.

Pinching and teasing your clit with firm caresses, he begins sending you towards your own climax. You grind up against him even harder and crash your mouth on his. Desperately kissing and pawing and gripping each other, you both approach your sweaty, shaking ends.

‘Oh fuck! Tom, Tom!’ you scream into his shoulder.

‘Godddd Y/N,’ he shouts.

You come for the third time this evening, screeching as waves of unadulterated pleasure ripple through your centre. ‘Where can I come?’ he asks shakily. ‘Inside me, god, inside me please!’ you beg, in a voice that seems not your own. These words, as well as the tight undulating grip your walls have on his cock, drive Tom to his orgasm, which makes him practically double over as he holds your thighs in a grip that will surely leave bruises. He spills hot and thick, deep into you, resting his head on your shoulder as he pants, coming down from his high. After a few moments he slips out, pushing your thighs apart to look at your mingled come dripping from your cunt, observing it with the same stormy look that began your coupling.

Gently taking your flushed face in his slightly trembling hands, he repeats ‘oh darling, you’re so very lovely.’

‘You’re lovely too, sir,’ you respond, laughing, once you’re able to catch your breath.

You both look at each other like you’re seeing one another for the very first time.


	2. The Pub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more smut justified with v little plot, idk i just love the idea of Professor Tom a lot :)

It has been three weeks since you’d had sex. He’s been on research leave, and has one more week away to go. After you’d had that major lapse in better judgement and begged him to fuck you on his desk and came violently under the touch of his hands and tongue and cock – _what were you thinking?!_ – you told him it probably wasn’t a good idea to do that again. He agreed. You were both reluctant to come to this decision but realised it was for the best, and by some great stroke of luck, he was due to travel for research for an entire month. A whole month to get over this ridiculous crush. It seemed like a blessing.

 

Only it didn’t _feel_ like such a blessing. Every moment away from him made you throb with longing, imagining his fingers ghosting over your entire body, his tongue tracing your contours at a delicate snail’s pace before finding your centre. You’d not been out much over the past few weeks, feeling desperately sorry for yourself and moping around your flat. Tonight would be a fairly radical exception because you were more or less required to attend a Faculty party. The campus pub was filled with sessional teaching staff, postgraduate students, and assorted senior members of staff including associate professors. Knocking back a couple of house reds, you finally feel a little calmer and certainly more relaxed. Chatting with fellow postgrad friends, the cheer of this mid-semester party is beginning to rub off on you. Until he walks in. _How is he here?! He isn’t supposed to be back for another week! And he was now standing in front of you. Oh god fucking damn._

‘Tom, old chap!’ exclaims AP Clements – a horrendously pretentious bastard and a misogynist to boot – ‘I thought you weren’t back for another week or so.’

‘Yes, I know, but I got everything done in such good time that I thought I’d come back early. Besides, there are things I’d rather be doing right here at home.’

You resolutely fix your gaze on your glass of wine but can feel his eyes boring into you as he speaks. This cannot be happening.

For the next hour, you try very hard to ignore how your heart races and how dizzy you feel when he glances at you. You have another glass of wine and continue to talk with friends. But you can still feel his eyes on you and you want nothing more than for him to stride over here and kiss you until there’s no more air left in your lungs. You glance over and see him grazing his beautiful fingers across his lips as he distractedly talks with colleagues. God fucking damn, indeed.

 

You blindly wander outside, sucking in great gulps of cold clean air. Every part of you aches and shudders with desire and frustration, knowing that what you want will not be given to you. You've made it to your car in the parking lot, leaning heavily against it and trying to compose yourself before going back in, when you hear a concerned voice enquire ‘are you ok?’  
It’s him.  
‘Yes, I'm ok. I just needed some air.’  
He edges towards you closer and closer and you swear you can feel his pulse vibrating all around you.  
‘Please don't come any closer,’ you warn.  
‘Why not?’ he asks heatedly, trembling slightly.  
‘Because we can't. We just can't do this.’  
‘Can't, or shouldn't?’  
‘Both,’ you gulp.  
He yelps your name, looking down at you pleadingly. His hand reaches out and strokes the side of your hand ever so slightly and you gasp.

  
‘I will go away,’ he whispers against your cheek, ‘I'll go away if you can say you don't think about what happened three weeks ago. Tell me you don't still feel me moving inside you while you desperately clawed at my backside, which left beautiful marks on me for days, by the way. Tell me you don't remember exploding in my mouth twice, within a matter of minutes, while I licked your beautiful clit. Tell me that it was nothing, and I will leave.’

  
Jesus Christ. Simply listening to these words, feeling his hot breath on your cheek, and his hand on yours, has left you speechless. Your clit is so engorged with blood and lust that it actually hurts a great deal. You press your thighs together to try to relieve the pressure. He notices you squirming and asks, ‘may I help you with that, darling?’  
‘Here? Someone will see us?’  
Looking around, he sees your point. He takes your hand and practically drags you into a small alcove to the side of the car park.  
‘Let me ask you again. Can I help relieve you in some way, darling?’  
Whimpering, you nod yes. If he doesn't touch you right fucking now you will scream.  
You part your legs slightly, while he pushes the silk of your skirt up and hitches one of your legs around his waist. Wasting no time, he pushes your underwear to the side and inserts a finger inside you, and then another, while using his thumb to firmly stroke your clit.  
‘Oh my god,’ you moan huskily. You're already coming, very quickly.  
‘Y/N, you're positively drenched. How long have you been like this?’  
‘All night. Even before I saw you walk into the room. Oh, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,’ you readily admit between gasps, as you shamelessly grind against his hand.  
‘I like knowing this is the effect I have on you. That my body is the source of your pleasure.’  
As he moves his fingers inside you, he looks at you in your deliriously pleasured state with a kind smile, wanting to register each reaction. With a few firm pumps of his hand you come, howling against his shoulder to muffle the sound.  
Dragging his hand from under your skirt, he greedily licks his saturated fingers with a moan.  
‘Dear god, you've no idea how I've longed to taste you again.’

As post-orgasmic shudders course through your body, you grip his shoulders for dear life, exclaiming between ecstatic gasps, ‘Tom. I just can’t. I can’t stay away from you. I want you.’

‘I don’t want to stay away from you. Please, _please_ say you’ll have me, at least for tonight,’ he pleads.

‘Yes, please. Yes of course, I’ll have you,’ you stammer. ‘Take me home.’  


So once again, you were running headlong into poor decision-making with this beautiful Professor of yours. In the moment, you can’t care less, knowing full well that tomorrow will most likely bring regret and her cousins, guilt, shame, and a great deal of general awkwardness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still working on a 4th chapter but if anyone has an idea of what they'd like to see our lovely Professor do next, write to me and I'll try to bring it to life with words!


	3. The Flat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a very long smutty chapter full of plenty of orgasms. Sorry not sorry. Also introducing the idea of Painter Tom and kind of in love with him?! More of him in the next chapter, I think.

You drive in total silence back to his flat. His hands grip the wheel and his jaw is clenched. You lay your clammy palms on your thighs and remain still. This moment feels like a point of no return, and you are both fully aware of this fact.

He unlocks the door to his flat and you enter, looking around like a curious cat exploring a new space. The rooms are decorated beautifully, warmly, and simply in duck egg blue and muted grey tones. The walls are adorned with prints, and the bookshelves are filled with many of your favourite books. You poke your head into a room just off the kitchen and, to your surprise, discover a studio filled with sketches, portraits and large landscape paintings. The work is beautiful, with soft lines and sensitively rendered colour palettes. They are so him.

“I had no idea that you were an artist!’ you exclaim.

“‘Artist’ is a bit of a generous word for it, but I do enjoy it.’

You eye a row of portraits of two very beautiful women and you wrinkle your brow questioningly.

‘My sisters,’ he reassures gently, reading your thoughts.

‘They’re lovely. Truly. You have a great talent, Tom.’

Blushing at your compliment, he’s unsure of what to say next.

‘Would you like something to drink, Y/N? Some wine, perhaps?’

 

Sitting on his plush couch drinking wine, the two of you relax and begin to thoroughly enjoy one another’s company. You realise that this is the first time you’ve told one another about your families, your lives outside of work. He smiles at you with kind eyes, carefully considering each word and you do the same for him. You’re mildly spellbound by the dulcet tones of his voice, concentrating hard on keeping up with the conversation rather than drifting off into a hypnotised reverie. Two glasses of wine later, your eyes drift across his body, which is clad in a form-fitting navy cotton shirt rolled up to the elbow, and perfectly tailored pale linen trousers. And suddenly you can’t think of anything except getting him out of his clothes.

 

“And what’s upstairs?” you enquire, knowing full well what the answer will be. The wine you’ve consumed over the course of the evening has emboldened you, it seems.

“My bedroom,” he gulps.

You wander upstairs, wine in hand, and the heat returns to your centre, anticipating what is to come. Once inside the room, you look at each other rather awkwardly before setting your wine glasses down on the windowsill. Up until now, your sexual encounters have been completely surprising and spontaneous events leaving little time for thinking about the outcome. This was different. It was premeditated, as it were.

“May I undress you?” he asks, in his characteristically polite manner.

You nod in agreement and he strides over to you, planting a kiss upon each of your cheeks before unzipping your skirt and allowing the silken fabric to fall to your feet. Like a sculptor modelling clay, he grasps your thighs and backside in his hands, his palms firmly brushing up and down their lengths, blindly trying to memorise each curve. The soft, downy fuzz of golden hairs on your thighs stands up on end as you break out in goosebumps at his touch. Next he lifts your shirt off, followed closely by your bra and underwear.

Suddenly shy, you murmur “Tom, this is a little unfair,” regarding his fully clothed figure as you tug at his shirt.

And without another word, you begin unbuttoning it, leaving a trail of light kisses down the centre of his chest as you do so. As you unbuckle his trousers you both breathe heavily with anticipation, resting your foreheads against one another’s. Now he takes your face in his hands and kisses you gently for several minutes, before deepening and pushing his tongue into your mouth with a hungry urgency. You slip his underwear off and he kicks them to the side.

He lays you down on the plump mattress of his bed and continues to kiss you. His hands are everywhere: on your face, your breasts, between your legs. You take his erect cock in your hand and begin stroking firmly. He groans into your mouth with pleasure.

‘Tell me, have you touched yourself thinking about the things I did to you in my office all those weeks ago?’ he asks suddenly, his eyes now glazed over with lust.

‘Yes,’ you answer plainly and honestly, an embarrassed flush spreading across your neck and chest.

‘Interesting. And when you came, was my name on your lips?’ he pants.

‘Yes, yes, every time,’ you blurt out excitedly before realising what you’ve admitted to – in fact, you’d brought yourself to climax screaming his name more times than you can count over the past few weeks.

‘ _Every_ time? My my, you have been busy,’ he chuckles. ‘Show me. I want to see how you touched yourself thinking about me,’ he asks darkly.

You are incredibly aroused by his darkening tone, and by his request. You relinquish your grasp on his length and lay back into the cloud of pillows. Without taking your eyes off him, you open your legs and allow your hand to travel down to your heated sex and begin toying with your very wet clit. He shifts so that he is kneeling directly in front of you as you perform this rather obscene display. You begin moaning his name as the pressure and pleasure increases. He lazily strokes his cock while he watches, precum gathering and eventually dripping from the head into his hand.

‘Oh god!’ you cry out as your climax approaches, ‘please, I want you in my mouth right now.’

He yelps in pleasure at your request and quickly shuffles up the bed. You turn your head to take him into your mouth while you continue to finger yourself, tasting the salt of him. Unable to take his entire length into your mouth, you use one free hand to firmly caress the base of his dick while alternating between kitten licks and hard, slurping sucks on his tip.

‘Yesss,’ he hisses with delight, ‘keep fucking yourself while you suck me.’

You chuckle briefly at the incredibly dirty words he speaks when aroused – you would never have thought it of your exceedingly refined, softly spoken Professor. But quite quickly all thoughts recede into the background and you’re starting to come.

‘You’re to look at me when you come, is that understood, Y/N?’ he asserts, looking down at your violently trembling form.

You moan in agreement and promptly start to climax, and he withdraws from your mouth to come on your belly. Shaking and writhing against your own hand, your legs flail about and stomach muscles contract tightly but you don’t take your eyes off of him until the last burst of blinding pleasure that floods your consciousness, and you thrash around uncontrollably on the bed. You scream his name and he sighs at the sight and sound of your pleasure. Once you’ve come down, he uses a towel to wipe his come from you, apologising profusely for having done this. You laugh at this extreme politeness, considering the filthy commands he’d just given you moments ago.

‘It’s ok, I liked it,’ you admit.

‘Hmmm,’ he muses as he watches you.

‘What?’ you ask, as you watch another wave of dark longing drift across his eyes.

‘I just want you,’ he states frankly, ‘I want you so fucking much.’

‘So have me,’ you whisper before your breath catches in your throat. God, you want him too.

‘Mmmm, before I fuck you with my cock I want to fuck you with my mouth, is that ok?’ he asks.

‘Oh, yes please,’ you are completely wet at his words. ‘Tom, you never have to ask to use your mouth on me.’

He chuckles as he lays back, gesturing for you to lower yourself on his face.

You hesitate for a moment. ‘Er, I’ve never done it like that before. I feel like I could crush your face or cut off your air supply if I do that.’

Now he laughs and assures you that it is perfectly safe. After hesitating for a moment longer you shift up towards the head of the bed and lower your sopping sex onto his mouth.

‘Oh. My. Fucking. God,’ you moan with your forehead pressed against the wall as he starts licking long strokes from your opening to your clit before gnawing lightly on the bundle of nerves that will soon send you headlong into another climax. You grind down on him, forgetting your previous concern about injuring him. He uses his fingers to delicately part your lips so you are completely exposed to him and he starts sucking your clit with a firm grip, moaning intermittently to send vibrations through your core. You hold yourself up with one arm resting against the wall and one hand behind you resting on his hard chest.

Sensations of extraordinary pleasure ripple through you and you’re practically crying with the force of your impending orgasm. His hands wander up to your breasts and tease your nipples with light brushes across your electrified skin.

‘Tom, oh god Tom, I’m coming!’ you scream against the wall, surely waking any neighbours slumbering in the apartment next door. You explode with tears and sweat streaming down your face, blacking out for a moment as the almost painful orgasm courses through you. He continues to lick you gently as you ride out your ridiculous high and you suck in sharp intakes of air. You collapse, whimpering, on your side next to him as he grins at the sight of your helpless, sighing, shaking body for several minutes, and he finally wipes your cum off his face with the back of his hand. He then repeatedly runs his fingertips down your body with a ghostly, light touch.

‘Y/N, that was beautiful. I’ve been thinking about doing that to you for weeks. I’ve thought about doing so many filthy things to this gorgeous body of yours.’

‘Tell me,’ you ask, as you open your legs in invitation.

He positions himself over your extraordinarily wet entrance and the tip of his angry red cock glides over your folds and clit in preparation.

‘Well, let’s see,’ he muses thoughtfully.

‘I thought about you when I was in meetings, wanting to bend you over the desk, pin your arms and fuck you relentlessly until you came on my cock,’ he begins relaying in a rather matter of fact tone, before pushing his length into you very slowly, inch by inch.

He breathes in heavily as you envelope him in your hot, wet cunt and starts to move in and out of you.

‘Nnngh, I imagined you out for dinner with your friends, and crawling under your table to suck on your clit until you had no choice but to come right there and then in my mouth,’ he pants excitedly in your ear.

‘Oh fuck, Tom! Please keep going,’ you beg, crying out with intense pleasure at the syrupy tones of his voice that drip with desire and the thrust of his impressive length within your tight, contracting sex. You wrap your legs around his waist to take him deeper.

He drops a hand to your clit and toys with you as he continues to talk. You’re both already very close.

‘I thought about using my belt to tie your hands, kissing every crevice of your body except for where you need it most while you beg me to make you climax, teasing you for hours until I finally use my fingers to make you a helpless, weeping mess. Mmmm, you wouldn’t be able to do a single thing about it with your hands tied above your head, and believe me, I would make you beg for it.’ He can barely finish his sentence before losing it completely, his sculpted torso sweating and sticking to you as he bites down on your shoulder.

The thought of him doing these things to you, imagining his fantasy scenarios, in and of itself has you climaxing, and his firm strokes on your blood-engorged clit tip you over into yet another orgasm. More tears stream from your eyes as your scrunch your face and hold your breath, stars bursting behind your eyelids. Your thighs tremble while the walls of your pussy contract and grip him, and he finally comes, screaming into your ear. You both pant ‘oh god, oh my god’ as your recover. His rigid form softens and he allows his weight to rest completely on top of you. It is some time before you decide to come unstuck, falling into dreamless, spent slumbers.

 

 

 

 


	4. In His Studio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing painter Tom...  
> EDIT: I just got a message from someone confused about this. To clarify: in this fic, Tom is both an art history professor AND he also dabbles in painting as a hobby. He is a man of many talents ;)

You’d slept curled around his sculpted form, face buried in the space between his shoulder blades. You’d woken to a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee offered alongside a plate of hot buttered toast. You’d come once again when he took you in the shower, with your back to the wall and your legs wrapped around his waist.

 

And now, mid-morning, you are in his studio, nude, and seated on a plush velvet footstool. He stands several paces away at his easel, rarely taking his eyes from you to assess the progress of his drawing. The scratch and scrape of charcoal against rough woven parchment is the only sound in the room. Though you’re naked, beams of sunlight stream in through the nearby window, bathing your back and shoulders in warmth and you sigh. He notices this and, taking the white conte pencil from between his teeth, asks ‘do you need a break?’

 

‘No, I’m fine,’ you reply, wiggling the fingers of your right hand slightly, which have become stiff from holding the pose for the last half hour or so. He watches you for a moment and then sets his charcoal and conte down, walks towards you and finally kneels down behind you. At first all you feel is the heat of his breath on the back of your neck, and that alone is enough to set you alight. You remain still, holding your breath in anticipation, waiting for his next move. He brushes his fingertips down your spine, anointing each vertebrae with a delicate, shivering touch. ‘Tommm,’ you sigh contentedly as you lean back into him.

‘No, Y/N. Don’t move,’ he says sternly, heatedly. You immediately return to your original pose and he drags his lips down the side of your neck, a feather-light caress that causes you to break out into goosebumps. His fingertips and lips give this same treatment to your arms, your shoulder blades, your hips. You moan quietly as your centre burns and prickles with warmth and your clit swells painfully with desire. Frozen in your pose it is near impossible to relieve the pressure by pressing your thighs together, and the inability to relieve it is maddening. You try to do this discreetly but within a second you hear him chuckle against your shoulder.

‘Darling, what did I say?’

‘You…you said not to move,’ you respond between gasps.

‘So don’t.’

Now he faces you, kneeling before you like the humble servant of some great lady. The way he looks at you, with sincere eyes that seem lost in your own, completely disarms you, flooding your body with a shiver that settles deep in your core. He gives the front of your body the same enragingly soft and slow treatment, ghosting his fingertips over your neck, breasts, belly and thighs, breathing hotly against your ear before using the tip of his tongue to trace intricate, invisible patterns on your breasts. You look down and realise that the dark ash of the charcoal Tom had been using earlier now speckles your entire form, transferred from his fingertips to your body with his lazy, languorous strokes, creating a dusty map of where his fingers have travelled on your body.

Your clit and inner labia are now ridiculously and uncomfortably engorged with desire, and you can feel a gush of wet seeping out of you and onto the velvet cushion underneath.

‘Tom, please, _please_ , I’m begging you,’ you whimper.

‘Oh I quite like that,’ Tom responds with a low, dark whisper, ‘go on then, darling, beg me. What is it that you want?’

You look at him, suddenly too shy to articulate what it is that you want. He raises an eyebrow, patiently stroking the insides of your thighs while awaiting your answer.

‘Tom, you _know_ what I want, I want you,’ you respond, breathing heavily.

‘Yes, darling, I do know. But I want to hear exactly how you want me. Go on then.’

‘I…oh god, I want you to spread my legs. I want you to kiss and lick and suck me like only you know how. Please, I beg you, please god now,’ you plead as your erotic stupor turns you into an unintelligible babbling mess.

‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ he responds, a wicked grin lighting up his delicate features. He drags you from the footstool and lays you out on the wooden floorboards. Tapping your knee with his forefinger, he orders ‘open.’ You look down at him with hooded lids and shake your head, coyly biting your lower lip.

‘Oh, you want it like that, do you Y/N?’ he asks with a wicked grin crossing his face.

‘Yes,’ you respond throatily.

Without taking his eyes off yours, he pries your legs open, spreading them as wide as they can go, so that the muscles of your inner thighs burn with the stretch.

‘Keep them open, just like this. Do you understand?’ he instructs. You nod in agreement.

Cocking his head to the side, Tom inspects your bare sex while stroking your outer lips, before stroking deeper and deeper until his fingers are inside you, caressing and curling them within your slick heat.

‘You are always so fucking wet for me,’ he whispers into your ear, ‘you have no idea how much that turns me on.’

He moves downward to bestow a flat-tongued lick squarely on your clit. You squeal with delight, writhing under the touch of his tongue.

‘God, you taste incredible, Y/N,’ he murmurs as he hovers just above your sex, ‘ I think I’ve become quite addicted to this.’ He groans as his mouth descends once more to your dripping pussy and you push your hips up to encourage him to deepen his licks.

‘Good, because I don’t ever want you to stop,’ you sigh as he starts licking a little more firmly and deeply. Your thighs start to tremble, and he takes them in his hands so he can hook your knees on his shoulders. This new position adds even more friction and you moan appreciatively, peering down into the eyes of this beautiful man who is so intensely focused on your pleasure. He inserts a finger inside you, again, curling it gently and stroking you in time with each lick on your clit.

‘Oh my fucking god yes, like that please, _please_ don’t stop,’ you groan deeply, grabbing the back of his neck with one hand. He starts sucking very firmly and deeply when you begin breathing faster and grinding up into him harder. He inserts another finger, then another, all the while sucking your clit mercilessly. A lightning bolt of an orgasm shoots through your body from deep in your centre and you cry out with your head thrown back, screaming his name. Taking mere seconds to recover you pant, ‘on your back. Now.’

He obeys immediately, stripping his t-shirt off on the way down. You straddle him and unbuckle his belt slowly, lazily running your fingers over his hips before starting to unzip his trousers. He bucks up into you impatiently, seeking friction and contact.

You chuckle between gasps as you continue to recover from your climax, ‘well now you know how it feels, mister.’ You pause for effect. ‘What do you want? Tell me.’

He grunts with both pain and pleasure, bucking up into you again, seeking friction. But you remain still, waiting for his reply.

‘I…I…god, I want to be inside that tight wet cunt of yours, fuck you til you’re sore, and then I want to come deep inside you. Please, Y/N, please, I need to feel you. Please fuck me.’

‘Good boy,’ you say before planting a kiss on his lips. You pull his trousers and underwear down to reveal his incredibly hard and throbbing erection. Grinding against him, you allow the copious, creamy wet of your pussy lubricate his cock. The head of his cock stimulates your clit wonderfully and you could honestly come right there and then, but you decide to wait for your own release, allowing him to slip into you slowly.

‘Goddd, Y/N, you are so fucking tight,’ he roars.

You gaze down at him, loving the way he comes so completely undone at your touch. He begs you to start moving and you do, trying to go slowly to tease him further, but you can’t help bouncing up and down on his incredible cock with a delighted enthusiasm. Both of you groan as you clench his length with your vaginal muscles, and you continue to grind on him, leaning over him to gain friction on your clit. He raises his head to take one of your small breasts in his mouth, sucking and grazing his teeth across the nipple before turning his attention to the other breast, moaning greedily as he does so, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure to your centre. Lifting his hips up and pushing your hips down to bury his cock deeper into you, Tom approaches his climax very quickly. Resting your palms on his hard torso, you find the exact, perfect angle at which to rub yourself against him, parting your lips for even greater contact between your sex and his firm flesh. He lifts his hips up to push his cock fully into your hot depths one last time with a guttural cry, spilling hotly and deeply inside you with your name on his tongue, calling out for you over and over. You continue to grind on him and a hot, tight pressure builds in the pit of your belly split seconds before your own burning climax tears through your body, your toes curling and your body hunching over his as your quake and shiver. Your pussy continues to pulsate and throb with aftershocks as you lift your hips to allow Tom’s softening member to slide out of you. You roll off him and lay down on the cold wooden floor, breathing heavily as you recover. Tom’s eyes are closed against the light streaming through the window, as he puffs and wheezes, coming down from his own high.

 

He turns to you after a minute or two and says ‘I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like that, darling.’

‘Oh Professor,’ you reply casually, grinning up at him, ‘I look forward to it.’


	5. Back to His Office

He invites you into his office quite casually. ‘Yes, Miss Y/SN, come in.’ 

You leave the busy hallway and close the door behind you and before you can even turn to greet him, his hands are on you, gripping your thighs, and his face is buried in your hair.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he whispers heatedly.

‘We were together just yesterday, Tom,’ you try to reason, despite the undeniable heat pooling at your centre. It was terrifying how much you missed him, and how easily he could coax your body into an electrified state.

‘Yes, I know, far too long, darling,’ he sighs as he kisses your neck.

You turn around to face him, and he immediately assaults your mouth with a kiss so hard you think it may leave bruises, but you don’t care. You want him just as hard as he wants you, and you match his advances by pushing him onto the couch, straddling him and returning your mouth to his.

‘We’re supposed to be working, you know,’ you remark, gasping for air between kisses.

‘I won’t tell if you don’t,’ he chuckles.

He raises his right leg, pushing it up to meet your clothed sex. You moan in response.

‘Ah ah ah,’ he warns as he lowers his leg away from you, ‘darling, there are dozens of people milling about these halls. You’ll need to be quiet, unless you want them to find out you’re fucking your Professor.’

Oh god, the thought of him fucking you while you could easily get caught causes a fresh flood of arousal to trickle out from between your legs. Confused and dismayed as you are at your perverse delight at this scenario, you cannot deny it.

‘I’ll be quiet, I promise. I promise.’

‘Good girl,’ he says, as he returns his thigh to your throbbing pussy. Fully clothed, you grind against him, the hard surface of his leg stimulating your clit. You try to smother your moans and cries by burying your face against his shoulder. As you continue to grind faster and harder, he undoes your blouse and your bra before taking your breasts in his hands, stroking and pinching your nipples.

‘Oh god, Tom, please I need you inside me,’ you whisper.

‘Yes darling, I can’t wait to bury my cock in you, but first I want to see you come for me. Can you do that?’

A ridiculous question, as you’re about to crash headlong into a blinding orgasm. The pressure builds and builds and you approach your release. And then his phone rings. You cease your movements immediately, the spell temporarily broken. Taking his phone from his pocket, he grunts, ‘gotta take this, I’ll be quick.’ You lean back and wait for him to answer his call. He looks at you heatedly and whispers in your ear, ‘darling, don’t you dare stop fucking yourself. I will take this call and you will keep going until you climax, do you understand?’

You look at him, eyes glazed over with desire and nod yes. He could not only make you incredibly aroused with his body, but with his words as well. The thrill of being caught increases exponentially as he answers his phone with a very cordial, ‘Hello Clara, how’re things?’

He glances at you, raising his eyebrows questioningly. You answer by beginning your gyrations on his lap once again.

‘Yes, the fifteenth is still good for me, if it’s good for you? Oh good, I’m looking forward to meeting the new students.’ His casual tone of voice gives nothing away while he watches you grind shamelessly against his tightly muscled thigh, your movements becoming more and more frantic as you once again approach your climax. A small yelp escapes your lips and he clamps his hand over your mouth to muffle the sound. You moan into his palm.

‘Yes, it will be the same lecture as the one from last year, with some very minor revisions. I think it went well last time so I didn’t want to change it up too much.’

As he continues to talk, he presses his thigh up into you even harder and licks your collarbone, and that is all it takes for you to come, practically hyperventilating against his hand and grinding wildly against him. The orgasm continues to rip through you and you continue to ride his leg, and to your great surprise, you’re coming again. This orgasm is even deeper, your thighs clenching his as your eyes roll back in your head. Your mouth has gone slack and you’re drooling in the midst of a silent scream, your body quaking as you grip Tom’s muscular arms for support. Gently riding his thigh now, you work yourself through the aftershocks of these incredible orgasms.

‘OK well great to hear from you, Clara, and I’ll see you on the fifteenth. Great, see you later.’ He hangs up and groans, sliding his big hands up and down your torso.

‘Fuck, Y/N, that was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. God, you’re going to be the death of me,’ he tells you as he lifts you up, depositing you on your back on the couch. You notice a dark wet patch on his trousers, your cheeks briefly burning at the realisation that you were so wet you’d leaked through your underwear and woollen tights. The thought quickly leaves your mind as he rips your underwear and tights off in one swift, impatient motion and helps you wriggle out of your skirt. He then strips his own jumper, t-shirt and trousers off with such impressive speed that you start to giggle. He grins down at you and says ‘darling, I can’t help it. I need you right now.’

You spread your legs as far as the couch will allow and pull him down onto you. Trembling with anticipation, he lines his rigid length up with your entrance and then slowly buries himself in you. Your inner walls quiver at the intrusion, stretching to accommodate him. He starts moving in you, gently withdrawing and entering several times before establishing a much harder and faster pace.

‘Oh god, Tom, yes harder!’ you encourage, stifling a delighted shriek against his chiselled chest.

‘Darling, I don’t want to hurt you,’ he grunts, pained with the restraint of a slightly gentler pace.

‘No, you’re not hurting me. You feel incredible, please, please fuck me harder,’ you beg, cupping and squeezing his arse as you lift your hips up to urge him on.

Needing no further encouragement, he plunges back into you hard and fast, the sound of his balls slapping against you and his restrained moans filling the small room. This punishing pace feels incredible and when his hand drifts down to your clit to pinch and caress you there, you arch your back and beg for more.

‘Oh god, Tom, I’m going to come!’ you whisper against his mouth, surprised at how quickly it is approaching.

‘Yes, come, come for me,’ he hisses, snapping his hips into yours even harder.

‘Professor Hiddleston?’ a small, nasal voice calls out from the other side of the door, accompanied by some knocks. Tom halts his movements and you both crane your necks to look at the door. The handle turns briefly but, luckily, the door is locked. An audible sigh comes from outside the office while the girl slips some papers under the door. She then shuffles down the hall.

You look back at each other and burst into quiet laughter before Tom resumes his movements. A fresh gush of wet flows out of you, coating his cock and dribbling out of you. He groans at the sensation and continues to plunge in and out of you, lowering his mouth to one of your nipples and flicking his tongue across the hardened nub, sending a bolt of lightening through you once again. Your inner thighs quiver as he returns his skilled fingers to your clit, stroking the blood-engorged bundle of nerves firmly. ‘Come, beautiful girl. Let go,’ he growls in your ear, ‘come for your Professor.’ Between those words and his attention to your clit you do, in fact, approach your climax very quickly, your back rising up off the couch cushions and your shaking legs straightening out under him. You grind your hips up into his hand and his cock and come with a pained yelp that cannot be contained. His cock twitches inside you, and he finds his release a few thrusts later, filling you with warm, thick, copious come. He bites your shoulder to stifle his scream, which vibrates against you. The bite will leave a purple bruise, and part of you loves the thought of this brief tattoo that will mark you as his. You stay there for several minutes, his cock softening inside your slightly aching cunt and his head against your breast, before getting up, dressing, and starting on your work. 


	6. Exhibition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter based on this prompt from Vixen_519: "What about if reader gets asked out with Professor Hiddles seeing the whole thing?!" I loved this idea but struggled with writing it for a couple reasons: a) I wanted to keep this story as porn-y as possible with as little plot or complicated emotions as possible, and I kept accidentally writing plot/feelings (not in this version though, much of that has been cut) and b) because I didn’t want to write Tom as abusive, possessive or demanding in his response to seeing Reader being asked out, but also wanted it to be a little bit sexy/dom at the same time which was a fine line to tread. I hope it works for y’all. I’d love to write to a prompt again, so write me if you would like to see a particular scenario.
> 
> …Also I seem to really like seeing Tom on his knees. It’s becoming a theme in like every chapter lol

The opening night of the school’s latest exhibition is in full swing. While the pieces in the show are interesting, you’re far more preoccupied with stealing secret glances at Professor Hiddleston. His dark denim jeans cling to his hips and thighs, and your eyes travel down the length of his body over and over while you pretend to look at the art, and attempt to hold conversations with fellow students, artists, and members of staff. You’re talking with your new friend Will, a blonde, bright-eyed guy who has recently started his PhD at the university. You were glad of Will’s presence on campus; he’s proved to be a good study partner when you’re not feeling particularly motivated, and has even proof read one of your chapters for you.

‘…so, Y/N, I know we’ve never really spent time together outside of uni but I was thinking, perhaps…perhaps we could do something this weekend. Maybe a movie or something. I mean, if you want,’ he blurts out.

 _He’s asking you out?_ You’re so terrible at flirting – you much prefer people to be direct rather than suggestive – that you didn’t even see this coming. You’re flustered and your cheeks are flushed with crimson. You can feel Tom’s eyes on you as he watches this exchange and you suddenly feel quite claustrophobic. Will raises his eyebrows and you realise you’ve drifted off into reverie, leaving the poor man hanging.

‘So, er, would you like to go out with me? Give me your number and I’ll call you?’ Will asks.

And before you know what the hell you’re doing, you’re keying your number into his phone. Anything to make him go away, and anything to stop Tom’s blazing glare. Will walks away, promising to call you tomorrow. The moment he leaves you feel utterly relieved, but you also realise you probably should have simply said no.

Tom saunters over, looking absolutely nonchalant. ‘What did Mr Banks want, Y/N?’ he enquires, feigning a mild, detached interest, undermined however, by the slight catch in his throat.

‘Well…he…actually he asked me out. Like on a date I think,’ you respond shakily.

‘And what did you say?’

‘I said yes. I freaked out, I didn't think.’

‘Well, do you like him? Do you want to go out with him?’

‘I don’t know…yes? Maybe? He’s nice. I’ve never really thought about him like that though.’

‘What do you think he would say if he knew what you’ve been doing with me, you naughty girl? What would he say if he knew your Professor has been fucking you, making you come harder than you’ve ever come before?’ Tom asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and quite comically.

‘Fuck, I should never have told you that,’ you reply half-laughing, unable to contain yourself.

Tom’s voice drops to a more serious, darker tone. ‘What about telling him how your clit practically jumps into my mouth when I eat you? Or perhaps I should show him the bite marks you left on my chest and thighs two days ago? I bet he’d be interested to know how hungry you always are for my cock.’

Unrelenting as always, he maintains an outwardly casual demeanour while asking you these things, a soft, relaxed smile on his face. People walk past smiling benignly at the pair of you; if only they knew what was transpiring between the two of you, you think to yourself. For the second time this evening, your cheeks are flushed crimson; this time it is not from embarrassment, but from arousal.

‘Tom, this is not a conversation to be having here, ok?’ you whisper.

‘Yes indeed,’ he says gently. ‘Follow me.’

He drags you down narrow, labyrinthine corridors, through to a back space of the gallery you didn’t even know existed. Finally, he produces a key to some kind of large store room and once you are both inside, he pulls you towards him to crush his mouth on yours.

‘I know I haven’t any right to stop you from doing whatever it is that you want to do, but fuck, Y/N,’ he gasps as he very gently traces his finger over your clothed slit, ‘I want you all to myself, and _this,_ ’ his mouth brushes against yours and his finger presses against your sex more firmly for emphasis, ‘I want _this_ to be mine.’ You whimper at the potency of his touch, lifting your hips to meet his fingertips, begging for firmer contact.

 

Suddenly on his knees in front of you, he pushes your skirt up your thighs without taking his eyes off you until he’s dragged your underwear off. His gaze travels down your body. ‘Darling, you are literally dripping for me, your thighs are drenched!’ he remarks, before using his tongue to lap up the creamy overflow on your thighs, working his way up to your plump, desire-engorged pussy. You are momentarily shy – _you are ridiculously wet, you can feel yourself dripping almost down to your knees_ – but he moans with unadulterated pleasure as he licks every last drop of it, and you know that he loves it. He hooks your right knee over his shoulder before using the tip of his tongue to tease at your slit.

‘More please, god, harder please,’ you beg.

‘You mean like this?’ he asks with a raised eyebrow, before sucking your entire clit into his mouth, alternating gentle and brutal sucks.

‘Yessss,’ you hiss, gripping his head to hold him exactly where you want him.

‘Oh god, Tom, I can’t,’ you whisper after a couple of minutes.

‘What is it, are you ok?’ he asks, looking up at you in genuine concern.

‘Yes I’m fine,’ you chuckle, ‘but I can’t…I just can’t stand up anymore,’ you admit, looking down at your quaking legs that threaten to give way any moment now. Grinning, he pulls you down onto the ground before returning his hot mouth to your aching cunt, nipping lightly on your inner folds which sends earth-shattering sensations through you, and by the time he grazes his teeth against your clit again you’re already coming.

 

After recovering, you slip your dress off and undress Tom, then sit on his lap on the floor. You take his hard length in your hand and begin stroking him. Forehead to forehead, you look at him while his eyes flutter open and closed as the waves of sensation overtake him. His hands grip your hips and caresse the gentle curves of your backside, electrifying the skin there, before his fingers find your centre and slide effortlessly in and out, curling and coaxing ever so gently. ‘I want you inside me. Now,’ you demand. You roll onto your hands and knees, grinning down at the man whose eyes are dark and glazed with lust. He kneels behind you, stroking your back and arse before slowly sinking into you. You both moan in unison as he pulls out and pushes back in very gently, taking a moment to appreciate the sensation of simply being joined together. You push back into him, urging him to move, and he does. He moves in and out of you harder and faster, the wet, heavy slap of his balls against your sex setting your centre alight. Suddenly he hauls you up so that your back is flush against his hard, chiselled chest, the sheen of his sweat sticking to you. His hands pluck and play with your nipples before moving down to where you need him most, caressing, rubbing, and pinching while continuing to fuck your pussy.

 

‘I didn’t say yes to him because I wanted him,’ you admit between gasps, ‘I only want you, I swear, I swear.’

He growls into your ear gently biting your neck, ‘and are you mine? Is this body mine?’ he demands as he thrusts.

‘Yes, yes!’ you squeal with delight as he continues to drive up into you.

‘Then say it, Y/N. Say the words.’

‘I’m yours, all of me, my body is yours…oh god!’ you come screeching with your head thrown back on his shoulder.

Your walls clamp down on his cock, gripping and pulsing around it as a fresh burst of sticky wetness erupts from your centre to coat him. He comes very hard, jolting and shaking, holding you as close to him as possible. Arching your back slightly to allow him to ease out of you, you feel the rush of him come leaking onto your aching thighs.

‘Now you say it too,’ you ask, dipping your finger into his spent come and licking it clean. He watches you do this and his cock starts to spring to attention once again.

‘Holy fuck, Y/N, yes of course I’m yours too,’ he pants.


	7. The Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some library sex, no?
> 
> Also please note I've added some tags that some people might not want to read (some mild [??] dom stuff and wrist-pinning in this chapter, but I've tagged it just to be on the safe side).

You stretch your arms above your head, and then knead your left shoulder with your fingertips. You’ve been in the library’s special collections room for what feels like an eternity battling writer’s block, trying to finish a draft chapter for your advisers. The chapter is quite late, and you feel the enormous pressure to get it done as soon as possible. Bleary-eyed, you shut your laptop in defeat – it’s late and the library will be closing soon. It’s time to call it a day and go home.

 

Suddenly, he’s behind you and his fingertips are on your neck. Ever so gently, almost imperceptibly, they caress each vertebra before stroking your tense and aching shoulders. Like some kind of magic spell, the sensation of his fingers dancing on your skin melt the knots and dissolve the tension almost immediately. You hum with pleasure and relief, your head falling back to rest on the solid expanse of his belly. His hands continue their journey downwards, unbuttoning your blouse and lightly cupping your breasts.

‘Tom, what are you doing?’ you ask breathlessly.

‘Sssh, darling, just relax. Let me help you.’

You suppress a whimper as his fingers brush against your nipples, which harden with arousal within an instant. His thumbs circle around them relentlessly, sending prickles of sensation straight to your core. After several minutes of this treatment he moves his hands down further still, caressing your sides and the top of your hips.

For a moment, you worry that someone might walk in, though you haven’t seen anyone in this mostly-abandoned special collections room for several hours. But why aren’t you more worried about this? Tom’s fingers trail further downward, past your quivering belly, and unbutton your high-waisted trousers. Fuck, this man can turn you into a writhing mess within seconds, using just the tips of his fingers.

‘Stand,’ he orders gently.

Your legs are like jelly, both from sheer exhaustion and the build up of desire that is now coursing through your entire body.

‘Tom, take me home. Take me to bed,’ you plead as you turn to face him.

A wicked grin lights up his face.

‘I don’t think I can wait that long, Y/N. I don’t think you can either, can you?’ he asks before planting a kiss on your neck and sliding his fingers inside your trousers. He finds your clit and pinches it very lightly over and over again.

‘Oh god. _Oh god_ ,’ you whisper, bucking up into his hand.

‘I’ll take that as a no, then,’ he chuckles.

 

He pushes you against the bookshelf with his hips grinding into yours and his lips brushing softly against your cheek. The wooden shelves that you’re pressed up against dig into your back and thighs but you don’t care. You run urgent hands down the hard muscles of his arms before gripping the curve of his backside, urging him to grind against you harder. He groans with excitement, obeying your silent demand by pressing and rubbing his clothed erection against your burning centre. His mouth is on yours now, gentle at first but gradually deepening into a savage assault that has you breathless and moaning for more.

 

You peel off your trousers and soaked underwear before unbuckling his belt and pulling down his trousers and boxers. He picks you up, gripping your thighs and backside, while you wrap your legs around his waist. He kisses your breasts before taking one of them in his mouth, sucking and nipping gently at the sensitive flesh there. The head of his cock rests at your thoroughly relaxed and sopping entrance and you buck into him, impatient for him to be inside you. You reach down between your bodies and guide him inside, and wincing with controlled effort, he enters you at an excruciatingly slow pace. He removes your arms from around his neck and pins them tightly to the bookshelf. Held in this death grip, you can barely move to make him go faster, and knowing that you are completely at his mercy sends ripples of pleasure straight to your clit.

‘I’m going to fuck you just like this, slowly, so slowly darling,’ he pants in your ear.

‘Mmm fuck, Tom, god, harder please, please move faster,’ you whimper pathetically.

‘No,’ he snarls before lightly biting your lower lip. ‘You’re going to come, just like this.’

Despite the teasingly soft pressure of his movements inside you, his body is at just the right angle to stimulate your clit and you quiver with delight at this.

He continues to slowly fuck in and out of you like this for what feels like an eternity, the gentle build-up of sensation in your core mingling with the dull ache that starts to creep into your pinioned wrists. This is no crashing orgasm but a stretched-out climax that starts like a small fire in the pit of your belly and very slowly uncoils as hundreds of lightning bolts of sensation crackle through your clit and pussy.

‘Yes, that’s right, let it go,’ he encourages as he watches you fall apart.

You come with a series of high-pitched squeals, your mouth wide open and your eyes scrunched shut. Groaning as the aftershocks pulsate somewhere very deep inside your hot slippery cunt, you feel Tom start to fuck you harder as he approaches his own climax.

‘You. Are. Mine,’ he grunts, and you simply nod yes before catching his lips with yours to kiss him as he comes undone inside you.

He releases your aching arms, allowing you to drape them around his shoulders once again.

‘Thank you,’ you whisper, as you catch your breath.

 

‘Excuse me, Miss?’ You feel an impatient hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake. Your eyes fly open. ‘Miss, the library’s closing,’ the librarian declares gently. You had fallen asleep with your head on the desk. Blushing furiously at the realisation you’ve just had a raucous sex dream in a bloody library, you apologise and quickly gather your things before leaving. You text Tom with a simple demand: ‘need you. now.’ Moments later, he responds: ‘where?’

 

 


	8. Dining Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based on a prompt from a friend who suffers from vaginismus (ongoing problems with vaginal pain that make penetration difficult/impossible): “could you write something VERY hot that doesn’t include PIV sex? Because I can’t relate to the pleasure of it. I get so frustrated by the lack of non-PIV m/f fics :( ”   
> So I dedicate this chapter to S, who deserves hot fics she can relate to! I hope you like it x
> 
> PS the next chapter is coming soon, based on a prompt from Punk_in_Docs :) If anyone has another prompt, please feel free to suggest one in the comments!

You sit in front of each other in the dining room. After sharing the chocolate pear pudding you’d brought over for dessert, he puts his hands on your thighs and says ‘take off your skirt.’ Trembling with anticipation, you wriggle out of your skirt and take off your shirt and bra. You move to take off your underwear but he catches your wrist and tells you to keep them on. ‘Sit down, darling. And open your legs wide for me,’ he asks, palming the growing bulge of his erection through his trousers.

‘I want to watch you,’ he whispers with excitement, and you smirk at him – you finally understand. Sitting facing him with barely any space between your chairs, you open your legs and begin by cupping your heated sex, exhaling with a whimper.

 _‘Gently,_ darling,’ he warns.

Nodding, you run your index finger up and down your underwear-covered slit with a barely-there touch for what seems like an eternity. You squirm and lift your hips towards your own fingers, head thrown back, hooded eyes fixed squarely on his.

‘Please,’ you beg.

‘Please what, Y/N?’

‘Please can I take my underwear off?’

‘Mmm I can see why you’d want to; they’re soaked. I can see it from here. But I don’t think you’ve earned it yet.’

‘Tom please, _please_.’

‘No,’ he growls.

Oh god, your painfully engorged clit jumps at the gravely tone of his command and you continue your feather-light treatment. Tom bends forward to kiss the insides of your thighs, sucking and licking and nipping the soft skin as you stroke yourself. The dull, soft ache of his bite marks on your thighs electrify the sensation in your pussy even further and you whimper over and over. After he’s done with your thighs he leans in to bury his face in your neck, kissing and sucking while he strokes and gently rolls your hardened nipples with his fingers. Your whole body is on fire, every inch of skin being touched blazing with almost painful pleasure. Your fingers are absolutely drenched – the cotton of your underwear thoroughly soaked through with your desire. Suddenly you thrust your fingers at Tom, and he greedily sucks them into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you as his tongue laves and licks your sharp sweet sticky mess. You shudder at the sight before he practically tears your underwear off, hovering above your sex to briefly breathe in the scent of your desire.

Finally, _finally,_ you can have firmer contact with your bare pussy, and you use two fingers to massage your slippery, swollen clit.

‘Harder now, darling,’ he commands.

You moan loudly with relief and whisper _‘thank you’_ before beginning to rub harder. Tom falls to his knees before you, urging your hips forward and he very gently kisses and licks your pussy as you continue to pinch and rub.

‘Oh, Tom, yes yes yes just like that,’ you encourage huskily as your blinding orgasm begins to approach.

You look down and see him unzip his trousers to release his throbbing, rock hard erection. He gathers some of your juices with his fingers and uses it to lubricate himself and he starts to stroke his cock. He hums into your folds, which intensifies the burning pleasure in your centre, and you begin to rub harder, arching up off the chair slightly into your hand and his face. Your breathing sharpens and you manage to moan a ‘yespleasedon’tstopohgod’ that hitches in a rasped gasp in your throat before your orgasm crashes through you. You scream as your stiff, shaking legs grip Tom’s head and you release squeals and shrieks of delight as the orgasm continues to course through your centre. Your body finally relaxes and goes limp as you gasp for air. Tom sits back, smiling up at you as he continues to stroke himself. You lean down to kiss him, gently pushing your tongue into his mouth as your hands caress his shoulders and chest. Still sighing with pleasure, you drop to your knees in front of him and take his cock in your mouth. He yelps, his body going completely rigid as you slowly take more and more of him, hollowing out your cheeks as you firmly suck and lick him.

‘Fuck, Y/N, god, please don’t stop,’ he begs between gasps. You smile around him as you continue to suck hard and fast, strings of saliva dripping from your mouth. His cock twitches in your mouth. You moan and begin gently massaging his balls with your left hand while your right hand pinches and caresses his hard nipples. His legs stiffen and he grabs your head, and you allow him to fuck into your mouth as he finds his trembling release. He throws his head back and shouts out a pained cry as he empties himself into your mouth. You struggle to swallow the copious amount of hot, salty come, and some of it dribbles from your mouth down your chin as you release Tom’s softening cock. He looks at you, panting, as he watches you wipe it from your chin and suck your fingers clean.


	9. The Restaurant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So firstly I want to say that I am very sorry for taking so long to fill this prompt for the lovely Punk_in_Docs – things have been incredibly hectic in my neck of the woods. I’ve changed the scenario just a bit from the original prompt, which was: “at a dinner party. Sat next to each other. Lots of friends present. Lady Minus underwear at mans request. Getting a little frisky and having to stay poker faced.” The way I've described this scene would probably never work IRL - you'd very likely be able to tell what's going on under that table. But hey, this is fanfic and we can do what we like in the realm of fantasy ;)…Anyway I hope you enjoy it x

You haven’t seen each other for two whole weeks. You’ve been away for semester break visiting family, which has of course been lovely, but you are now completely desperate to see Tom. He calls to arrange to see you the very minute you return to town and your heart bursts a little knowing he’s as eager to see you as you are him. Work, of course, gets in the way, and you agree to meet for a very quick casual dinner to finalise the presentation that will open the exhibition, before going back to his place.

 

‘Darling, can I make one small request? No knickers tonight,’ he asks towards the end of your conversation.

 

‘What?! Why on earth?’ you ask laughing.

 

‘Because,’ he responds, ‘when I get you home afterwards I don’t think I’m going to be feeling very patient.’  


You walk into the restaurant and see him sitting there waiting for you, and god he’s so beautiful. He’s wearing his grey-framed glasses and when he looks up from his laptop to smile at you, every part of you aches to kiss and touch him. You think that perhaps he wants to do the same as you watch him hold his breath for a moment as he takes you in. Instead of giving him the greeting you long to, you simply sit down and saying ‘good evening, Professor.’

 

‘Good evening, Y/N,’ he replies gently.

 

You are completely disarmed by him, as always, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into the nook of his neck, breathe him in and feel the warmth of him, the slight scruff of stubble on his cheek rubbing against your own soft, smooth cheek. The feeling is so strong, so palpable, that you’re surprised you don’t just give in and do it. You realise you’ve probably been staring at him for a while so you quickly glance away just in time to give your order to the waiter who inquires if you’ve decided on what you want for dinner.

  
Plates of pasta, crusty bread and garden salads in front of you, you begin the work of sorting through the two-dozen art works that will be included in the presentation. After ten minutes of discussion, you take a big bite of spinach tortellini before turning back to the laptop. Just then, you feel a finger brush against the outer edge of your thigh, just below the hemline of your dress. An electric shock jolts through you and you quickly glance sideways at Tom who smirks almost imperceptibly as he curls his fingers underneath the hem. You wriggle your leg slightly, trying to shake him off because holy shit this should not be happening. His fingers grip onto you with a single-minded determination, reaching over to travel to your inner thigh. He continues talking to you about the details of the presentation but you barely make out a word as your stomach muscles tighten with the pressure increasing in your centre. His fingers crawl higher and higher, alternating between brushing caresses and demanding strokes.

 

You whimper ‘Tom, what are you doing?’ but he looks back at you like the absolute picture of innocence, his wide blue eyes soft and clear. And his hands feel so good on you that you don’t have the ability – or the desire – to stop him.

 

‘What do you think about putting this artwork first? Start with a big statement piece?’ he asks casually, pulling up an image of a large set of bronze sculptures on his laptop. He devours a forkful of salad as he continues to knead your inner thighs with his left hand.

 

‘No, no I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ you interject, attempting to adopt a conversational tone. ‘I think Mia’s work should go first; it’s the heart of the show. It would be more powerful to start the presentation there.’

 

‘Yes, I suppose you’re right, that does make more sense,’ he concedes, as he uses his fingers to pry your legs apart just a little. Your belly does a little flip as you anticipate the contact he’s about to make with your centre.

 

‘Well in that case should we have Mia speak first, before I give my spiel?’ he asks, furrowing his brow and removing his glasses.

 

‘Do you want me to stop?’ he asks under his breath.

 

‘God no, no,’ you respond a little too readily. You need his hands on you with every fibre of your being.

 

Tom’s fingers crawl up to the top of your thighs where he brushes back your soft, dampening curls. You try to keep yourself from trembling as your skin prickles with heat and you bite back a whimper. He breathes out a slight chuckle when his middle finger grazes your slit and finds a dribbling stream of creamy wet, and then caresses and traces your inner lips, until he finally sets two fingers directly over your clit. His fingers barely move at first, hovering over the hot, swollen, slippery flesh before repeatedly pressing down on the sensitive spot very, very gently. It’s incredible how intensely pleasurable such gentle touches are, how forcefully each light brush or graze from his fingers have you right there on the edge within moments.

 

‘I think…I think you…you should at least say a few words before she speaks, don’t you? Talk about the entire project as a whole?’ you ask, swallowing hard.

 

He starts rubbing circles over your most sensitive point.

You can feel your nipples start to harden underneath your jumper and bra and it takes all your concentration and effort to not lift your hips towards his fingers, which continue to stroke and rub you _exactly fucking precisely_ how you like.

 

‘I’ll call her in the morning to ask her opinion, but I think you’re right,’ Tom concedes, smirking as he feels you grab his hand to hold it closer to your pussy. As his fingers work harder and slightly faster, your legs start to tremble. You hold your breath. Oh god…

 

‘Fuck I have to get you out of here, Y/N,’ Tom finally whispers. ‘I intended on teasing you tonight, but I have to have you. Right now.’

 

You nod your head in agreement and are on the verge of packing your things up to leave, when a group of people walk towards the table and greet Tom with a friendly ‘hello!’ Tom exhales impatiently, a hint of a slight growl at the back of his throat as he removes his hand from your now sopping sex, before turning to respond to them.

 

‘Well hello, what a lovely surprise! Um, Gavin, Miranda, John, this is Y/N, my research assistant. We’ve just finished discussing the new show.’ He then turns to explain to you that these three work in the English faculty at your university. Incredibly flustered, you awkwardly half-rise up off your seat and shake their hands.

 

‘We were about to sit down for a quick bite,’ Gavin says, looking around the restaurant. There isn’t a free table in the entire place.

 

‘Well, you’re quite welcome to join us. We have a big table, I’m sure we could all fit,’ Tom suggests, sensing the need for this polite concession.

 

The trio accept – _Jesus Christ_ – and sit down at the table. The dull conversation washes over you as your body remains in its aching, trembling state. Suddenly ravenous, you finish your dinner with incredible gusto, scooping up bolognese sauce with a slice of bread once all the pasta is gone.

 

‘So,’ Gavin asks as he turns towards you, ‘what’s it been like working under Tom? I’m sure he can be quite the task master!’

 

‘No, no, not at all, he’s been really…generous, actually,’ you respond, stuttering a little as you see Tom break off a piece of bread and lick his fingers as he eats it. ‘ _Delicious,_ ’ he murmurs. Knowing that he’s tasting you on his fingers sets your centre alight once again and you grip onto the seat of your chair, hoping to gain some kind of control over your frazzled state.

 

Once the meal is finally done and parting pleasantries are exchanged, you and Tom leave the restaurant, leaving the other three behind to enjoy their coffee and cake. Upon standing, you feel the cool air hit the remnant slick of your arousal and shiver a little at the slightly uncomfortable sensation. In his car, you squirm slightly, impatient for his hands to be back on you.

 

You barely allow Tom to pull into the parking space of his garage before grabbing him and drawing him into an incredibly rough, desperate kiss.

 

‘The things I’m going to do to you when I get you upstairs, darling,’ he groans into your mouth.

 

‘No. _Now_ ,’ you demand, biting lightly on his bottom lip before clambering into the back seat. He quickly gets out of the driver’s seat and opens the door to the back, climbing in on top of you, rubbing his clothed erection against your burning centre. You desperately need to come after hours of torture, and you claw at him frantically.

 

‘How do you want me?’ he asks between gasps.

 

‘I want you inside me. _Tom, I need you_ ,’ you murmur hotly, moving your hands down to release his belt buckle and zipper. Meanwhile one of his hands push the hem of your dress up above your navel. Suddenly you realise he’s also gone commando tonight, as his incredibly hard dick springs free from his trousers and you start giggling.

 

You stop, however, when he drags the head of his cock over your clit several times, and your laughter swiftly turns into a strangled moan. Wasting no time, he slips into your very wet pussy and you buck up into him, taking him deeper and urging him to start moving. Your walls undulate around him as he moves in and out, and you grip onto his arms. You’re close, _so close_ , and Tom moves one hand down to tease your clit, drawing circles over it harder and harder. Nose to nose, you watch each other start to come apart for a couple of minutes, lost in each other’s undoing. Finally your entire body starts to shake uncontrollably under his touch, your breathing comes in ragged and sharp, and moments later your orgasm unfurls with a flash of white lightning behind your eyes. You cry out against his shoulder as you lift your back off the car seat, enveloping his body with your arms and legs. Tom only closes his eyes at the last moment and he yelps ‘fuck, Y/N!’ as he comes. You kiss him and swallow his moans into your mouth. Falling back onto the sweat-slicked car seat, you pull Tom’s head down to rest against your breast, feeling him breathe hard against your skin for a few seconds. He then litters a tender trail of kisses across your chest, up your neck, and on each cheek before leading you upstairs for more.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests/suggestions for further Professor Hiddleston antics, send me a message and I'll give it a go writing it! x


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